


Some Things are Just Embarrassing

by sharkie335



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Enemas, Fisting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-24
Updated: 2010-09-24
Packaged: 2017-10-12 04:04:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/120559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkie335/pseuds/sharkie335
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John can't believe that he actually enjoys giving himself an enema, but the fisting he knew he'd like.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Things are Just Embarrassing

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the sga kinkmeme. Prompt was: John/Rodney, fisting, enemas. Rodney wants to fist John, so John gives himself an enema and is totally surprised at just how much he likes it. It's easy to let Rodney know how much he enjoys being fisted, but trying to explain the enema thing is a little more embarrassing and complicated.

John couldn't believe that he was about to do this. That he'd actually walked into a pharmacy, and bought an enema, and now he was going to give it to himself.

Sure, he wanted to be fisted, and Rodney's diffident suggestion made good sense. Still, it was embarrassing as fuck.

He read the instructions one last time, and then took a deep breath. He could do this. He put a towel on the hotel bed, and then lay down, on his left side. Opening the bottle, he reached down and back, and slid the nozzle into his hole. Then he started to squeeze the bottle.

As the water flowed out of the bottle and into John's ass, he started to shake. He'd expected embarrassment, but not pleasure. It felt good, as the water filled all the little spots that Rodney didn't - couldn't - touch.

When the bottle was empty, he pulled it out and tossed it on the floor. Rolling onto his stomach, he felt the water gurgle and slosh inside him. He glanced at the clock - he was supposed to hold it for five minutes. As hard as he already was, five minutes was going to be an eternity.

He was tempted to just hump the bed, let the roughness of the terry cloth beneath him help him get off, but he wasn't sure he'd be able to control himself if he did - and that was a mess he didn't want to have to explain. So instead he lay there, rocking just a little, just enough for the pleasure to ratchet higher and higher.

Finally five minutes had passed, and he went into the bathroom. Releasing the liquid was almost as pleasurable as holding it had been, and he groaned in relief.

He expected Rodney in about twenty minutes, which gave him just enough time for a shower. He thought about jerking off, relieving the unrelenting hard-on that he had, but he knew that if he waited, it would just get better.

By the time Rodney arrived, letting himself into the room, John was lying on the bed, still a little damp. He was running the tips of his fingers up and down his cock, because anything else was too much.

"You're really ready for me, huh?" Rodney said, setting down the bag he was carrying.

"You could say that," said John, flushing. He hated that he did that when he was embarrassed, especially since Rodney _didn't_. It wasn't fair.

Rodney's eyes were locked on his cock, even as he started to strip out of his clothes. Once he was naked, he wrenched his gaze away long enough to get the large bottle of lube out of the bag. "Go get another towel," he said, and John obediently rolled to his feet and went to get one from the bathroom, trying to ignore the way that his cock bounced as he walked.

When he made it back to the bedroom, Rodney had gotten the lube open. "Lie down, on your stomach," he said.

John did as he was told, saying, "Geeze, a little foreplay?"

"Doesn't look as if you need it," said Rodney. He ran his hand over John's back and down to one cheek, cupping it firmly. "Did you clean yourself?" he asked.

John's face was _flaming_ , and he turned away from Rodney before he answered. "Yes, I did."

"Hmmm," said Rodney, still stroking. "Liked it, did you?"

"Um," John didn't want to admit just how much he did like it.

"I'll take that as a yes. Maybe next time I'll do it for you? Or would you rather I watch?"

John couldn't help but groan at the thought of Rodney doing that for him. Just the thought seemed... intimate in a way that sex didn't.

Rodney chuckled softly. "Should we get started?"

"Please?"

There was a snap as Rodney opened the bottle of lube, and then it trickled down the crack of John's ass slowly. Rodney's fingers followed along behind, dragging through the thick liquid, down to John's balls and back up to his hole.

John groaned and tried to push back into Rodney's hand, only to have Rodney smack his ass. "None of that," he scolded. "We'll go at my pace."

"Fuck," said John, feelingly, but he forced his hips still.

"Good boy," Rodney said, and slowly slipped one finger into John's ass. John didn't quite understand why Rodney was being so careful - they'd been fucking for months - but at the same time, the care he was showing was nice.

A second finger went in, and John moaned. He loved being fucked. He loved it when Rodney fucked him with his fingers, he loved it when Rodney fucked him with his cock, or the dildo, or the butt plug. And he just knew that he'd love it when Rodney was fucking him with his fist.

"Please, Rodney, more," he moaned. Rodney just chuckled and rubbed over John's prostate, just a little.

"Patience," he said.

Finally, the third finger was added, and John closed his eyes, just letting it happen. Rodney wasn't going to be hurried, and there was nothing that John could - or would - do about it.

Rodney seemed to be able to read his surrender in the set of John's shoulders, because he praised him and started to really massage John's prostate. "Such a good boy, beautiful boy," he said. "Going to look so good with my fist inside of you."

John whimpered and lifted his hips a little. He couldn't stop it, didn't want to. Rodney chuckled and pulled his fingers out. "No," said John. "Don't stop. I'll be good."

"I know you will," said Rodney. "Not stopping, just adding a little more lube." Fingers pressed against his hole, and Rodney said, "Ready? Four this time."

"Oh, god," said John, as the fingers started to slide in. At first they didn't seem like that much more than three, but then Rodney reached the point where fingers started to become palm, and John could really feel the stretch.

"Shh," said Rodney. "You're doing fine." He pulled back a little, and then slid in again. "Just relax."

It was harder than he thought to relax. The stretch burned a little, and for the first time, John thought he might not be able to do this. But Rodney never voiced a doubt, just sliding his fingers back and forth, going a little deeper each time, and spreading John just a little wider.

Finally, his thumb snugged up tight against his perineum, and Rodney said, "Okay, John. Tell me how you're doing up there."

Why the _hell_ did Rodney always want him to talk? "Good," he said, voice strained.

"You know I want more than that," Rodney said. "Give me more, John."

John whined before saying, "It burns, but it feels good. Feels full, like I've got more of you than I've ever had before.

"Good," said Rodney, still sliding his fingers slickly in and out of John's ass. The burn was receding, leaving only pleasure, and John couldn't help but moan. His hips were still, barely, but that didn't matter. All that mattered was Rodney inside of him.

"Okay, John," said Rodney. "We're going to go for it." He pulled back, and John heard him adding still more lube.

Fingers, and there was the bump that was Rodney's thumb, sliding in, and slowly, glacially, Rodney pushed deeper, farther. John was being stretched wider and wider, till he was whimpering continuously, but when Rodney paused and said, "John, do you want me to stop?" he practically yelled, "No!"

"Just a little more," he said, and the bumps of his knuckles slid inside, and then the stretch eased suddenly. "Jesus, John, my whole hand's inside of you."

John started to laugh, just a little, but it did funny things to him. He couldn't seem to catch his breath, pleasure swamping him, drowning him.

Rodney started to twist his hand a little, and John cried out loudly. So intense. He was full, so fucking full, and he wanted to come, and he wanted to never come so that he could feel this forever.

"We're going to do this again," said Rodney, echoing his thoughts. "Next time, though, I'm going to give you the enema, and watch you hold it. Maybe I'll get you to give me a blowjob while you're holding it. Would you like that?"

John whimpered. He was past embarrassment, so lost in what Rodney was doing to him, that he'd let him do anything as long as he didn't stop.

Rodney's other hand slid under John's hip, wrapping his cock in a solid grip, even as his fist made his way a little deeper, pressing his knuckles into John's prostate. "Go ahead, John," he said, sounding more than a little winded. "I want you to come for me."

Carefully, John shook his head no. "Don't want to," he said, trying to take deep breaths. "You'll _stop_."

"Don't worry, John. I promise, you'll feel this again, and it'll be even _better_. Now, go ahead and come for me." His hand squeezed the head of John's cock gently, then stroked down over the shaft as he twisted his hand.

Under the dual sensation, John couldn't hold back, and he groaned as his orgasm rushed through him, powerful and hard. It felt like every nerve was firing at once, and he clenched tight around Rodney's hand, pulling even more spasms out of him.

Finally, the last of the aftershocks passed, and he lay on the bed, limp and wasted. Rodney's voice was tight as he said, "I'm going to pull out now, okay?"

John was so overwhelmed, all he could do was nod. Slowly, Rodney pulled his hand back. It was the strangest sensation ever, and John couldn't stop the unguarded hiss.

"Sorry," said Rodney, stroking over his back with his free hand. Then he shifted, picking up the towel and wiping his hand off. John wasn't able to do anything, it felt like. He was basically a puddle on the bed.

Rodney was moving around behind him, and John could feel the brush of the fabric of his pants as he knelt up. He could also hear the sound of Rodney unzipping and the slap of his hand sliding up and down his cock.

"You're beautiful," he said breathlessly, and then there was warm fluid landing on John's back. John moaned softly. He loved being marked by Rodney.

When Rodney settled next to John, John wrapped himself around him, ignoring the rough touch of fabric against his skin. "Thank you," he said.

"You're welcome. And John? Were there two enemas in that box?"


End file.
